A twentysomething woman and her kindergarten-age daughter follow a twentysomething man onto the bus. They sit in the forward-facing seats across from his, daughter near the window, mother near the aisle, facing the object of her pursuit.

Twentysomething woman, speaking loudly enough for everyone on the bus to hear: “I just don’t understand it. Guys are always trying to talk to me. Pretty much everyone wants to be with me, and I turn them down just to see the looks on their faces. Now I’m giving you the opportunity, and you don’t want it.”

The twentysomething man sits silently, looking somewhat embarrassed. The woman continues.

TSW: “I told my cousin you turned me down, and she was like, ‘Now that’s a first.’ For real, though, all kinds of dudes want to be with me. Basketball players have tried to holler, rappers try to get at me…”

She continues in this vein for several more minutes, until the man mumbles something unintelligible.

TSW: “What? Why can’t you tell me?” She gestures toward her daughter, who has witnessed the entire scene. “Is it her?”

In the front, a 27 regular: an elderly gentleman with a white beard who is never seen in public without his (rather tattered) Navy cap. Folks sometimes call him Captain.

In the back: a curly haired, two-year old boy, sitting on his mother’s lap, thoroughly enjoying the ride.

Little boy, giggling: “Whee! Whee! Wheeeeeeeeeeee!”

Captain turns toward the noise once, twice, three times, then rolls his eyes (twice) and sucks his teeth. The little boy, oblivious, continues.

LB: “Whee! Whee! Mommy, whee!”

Captain, turning again toward the back: “Shut up.”

A twentysomething man and woman are preparing to get off. The man starts to count out their fares.

Twentysomething woman: “We don’t need all that. I’ve been paying 50 cents all my life. For real. I’ll be 30 years old paying 50 cents–talking about, ‘I’m 16.'”

Middle-school girl, to her friend: “That sign says Metro buses are fueled with veggie oil, but they’re lyin’, because if they [buses] were [fueled with vegetable oil], it would smell like French fries in here.

Friend: “How do you know?”

MSG: “Oscar told me. Plus, I saw it on Pimp My Ride.”

Overheard by Ben on Capitol Hill:

Driver: “Next stop is 16th Avenue East, the closest stop to my brother-in-law’s house.”

Full-on geek, to hipster geek: “Ugly code offends me.”

High-school girl 1: “It’s a dinner. I’m getting in free or I wouldn’t be going. They called and asked if I wanted fish or chicken.”

HSG 2: “Fish!”

HSG 1: “Please! You don’t know what the fish looks like. You can’t just say ‘fish’ over the phone like that. Chick-en.”